


Angel’s Among Us 2: Apocalypse Now

by laniew1



Series: Angels Among Us [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic At The Disco, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-03
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:29:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laniew1/pseuds/laniew1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The apocalypse is coming; it brings with it Angels, Demons, Lucifer and a disappearing act as performed by one Ryan Ross.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Angels Among Us 2: Apocalypse Now**

  
He’s just settled down to watch TV; they’ve got separate rooms, which is more the norm then a freak occurrence as of late.

Dean doesn’t want to think about why Sam needs a separate room, if he thinks about it, then he’ll think about the fact that Sam is probably in there with Ruby and _then_ he’ll think about the fact that there’s very few things they can be getting up to in there that don’t begin and end with sex.

He doesn’t want to think about Sam fucking Ruby, that way lies madness and insanity and lecturing his baby brother about his fucking awful taste in partners.

Instead he’s taking advantage of having the room to himself to watch TV, Dr. Sexy MD is just beginning, he’s normally only able to catch it in repeats, very rarely catches it in primetime viewing, they don’t keep to the kind of schedule that is conducive to following a show in primetime.

He doesn’t even want to think of what Sam would say if he found out Dean watched it.

He’s got chips on one side, beer on the other, four pillows propped behind his head and back. He’s all set.

The opening credits start and that’s when Ryan appears next to him.

Dean doesn’t jump, Ryan appearing out of thin air is almost normal by now.

“You could have called,” Dean says. Back when Ryan threw his hissy fit and heaven grudgingly sent him back Ryan had given him the number to a special-super-duper-top-secret-only-to-be-used-in-angel-emergencies cell phone.

He’s used it twice.

When Castiel yanked him out of hell (Ross got him out of the original deal, but he still ended up there after a particularly nasty battle with a mated pair of werewolves, the female was a real bitch) he called because he’d seen Ross in action, _knew_ he was an angel even if he didn’t actually _believe_ in the whole concept of heaven and hell and angels from above. If anyone would know if Castiel was another real thing or not it would be Ross.

Ryan had confirmed that yes Castiel was the real deal, yes Dean should _try_ to listen to him, and if he ever got himself killed again Ryan would bring him back for the sole purpose of killing him _again_.

The other time he used it because Ross’ band was touring and Dean _had_ to call and make fun of their wardrobe choices. It was practically required by law. And Ryan wouldn’t have answered the other phone if he knew (and he always did) that Dean was calling to pick on him.

Dean can’t do that anymore, because Ryan’s band isn’t together and any time that Dean brings it up Ryan gets a tone to his voice that tells Dean that even though the split had been partially Ryan’s idea that he in no way is as okay with it as he’s leading the others to believe.

Which means that it was most likely an _angel_ -dictated idea and eventually even Jon will end up being sent away.

“What the hell are you watching?” Ryan asks, he pulls one of the pillows from under Dean’s head, folds it in half and settles against the headboard.

Dean looks over at him and he sees Ryan with his arms wrapped around himself, he’s got sleep pants and a T-shirt on, he’s digging his bare toes into the comforter and is staring at the TV like he might be tested on the episode later.

He looks tired and worn around the edges.

“You appeared out of nowhere, you don’t get to make fun,” Dean says. He doesn’t ask if Ryan is okay, he wouldn’t answer and Dean already knows that he’s not.

“Anybody know where you are?” he asks, he taps his fingers against the remote, watches a commercial for kitty litter with only half his attention.

“I left a note for Jon,” Ryan says. “He’s the only one that needs to know.”

He sounds sad, which is saying something because Ryan has got the art of speaking in monotone down to a science. If Dean can hear him sounding sad he’s almost suicidal.

He wonders if the fact that Ryan even bothered to leave a note means that he’s going to be staying a while.

  


**********************************************************

  
Dean wakes up and there’s heat all along his back. For a scrawny thing Ryan Ross puts off heat like a fucking furnace.

“You know there’s two beds in this room,” he grumbles, just in case Ryan had missed it.

“I’m hungry,” he hears Ryan mumble in reply.

Dean yawns and rolls onto his back, Ryan rolls away to avoid Dean rolling directly onto him.

He reaches for his cell on the nightstand and knocks a cup plus whatever else he’d had on it off.

Nothing sounds like it breaks so he counts it as a win.

He keys it awake and scowls at it.

“It’s 4:30 in the morning, how the hell are you hungry? Did you eat anything yesterday?”

“I had lunch with Alex,” Ryan says defensively, he’s on his side and when Dean looks over he’s blinking at him from wide eyes.

Dean sighs, rubs his face and turns his attention to the ceiling. There’s a big stain up there, it looks sort of like a dog humping a moon.

“You’re _sure_ that someone knows where you are?” Dean had figured that someone would have been calling already, either Jon or this Alex he hasn’t met most likely. Zack or Spencer or Brendon or Pete are long shots because Ryan has seemingly pushed them as far away as he can without completely _removing_ them from his life.

Though Ryan normally complains about the fact that Zack keeps tabs on him even though neither he or Jon are doing anything that requires actual security, and Jon is apparently an even bigger mother hen then Spencer was.

To have neither one of them, at least, calling...

“I left a note,” Ryan says, he rolls over on this back, joins Dean in staring at the ceiling. “Does that look like?”

“Yeah,” Dean nods. “Note?” he prompts.

“I left one, I promised that I would let people know when I left town,” Dean sighs a breath of relief; at least he won’t be getting a frantic phone call from somebody because Ryan has apparently vanished into the ether. “Jon will find it when he flies into L.A. in a couple of days.”

“Ryan?”

“Jon’s mad at me, I just,” he can feel Ryan shake his head next to him. “He’s supposed to be with Brendon and Spencer, it was selfish of me,” he says softly.

“You’re allowed to have people, friends, a life,” Dean says.

“No, I’m not. I have a mission, an assignment here that I’m supposed to be focusing on. I was…”

“Someone yelled at you.”

“ _Someone_ reminded me that I’m not human, that I won’t be human and that pretending to be human is only going to hurt people that I don’t want to hurt and never meant to hurt.”

  


**********************************************************

  
Sam and Ruby are already at a table in the diner when Dean arrives with Ryan on his heels. There’d been a bag that Dean hadn’t noticed sitting on the floor and it apparently contained Ryan’s toiletries and clothing.

They’ve had a busy morning, there have already been showers and an argument over whether Ryan will be staying or going.

Dean had wanted to send him back to California before someone noticed that he was missing and Dean had to deal with pissed off musicians again; Ryan had insisted that he was staying and that nothing Dean said was going to change his mind.

“Ryan,” Sam looks up and spots them, he shoots a questioning look at Dean and Dean shakes his head. Sam winces like he can still feel the punch that Pete threw when Ryan had vanished and they’d thought him gone forever.

Dean lets Ryan slide into the booth and then sits beside him. Watches while Ryan straightens the silverware on his napkin and takes a sip of the water glass sitting there.

“Sam,” Ryan says finally, he looks over at Ruby and his eyes narrow. Dean looks at her as well; she has wide eyes and is attempting to look sweet and innocent.

She’s not pulling it off very well in the face of an actual angel sitting across the table from her.

He knows that angels can be douches and assholes and mean and uncaring to those that they consider under them (like the majority of the human race), there’s still almost an air of purity that surrounds them despite that.

“And who is this?” Ryan asks. His voice is bland and uncaring though his eyes are boring holes into Ruby like he can see right directly into her, Dean would almost feel sorry for her, but then he remembers that she’s a demon and Sam is apparently fucking her, and he doesn’t trust her anyway.

“This is Ruby,” Sam says, he lays an arm over the back of the booth and Ruby leans back enough so that her head is touching his arm. Dean clenches a hand into a fist under the table. “She’s on our side.”

“Is she,” Ryan says. He’s still staring at Ruby, Ruby attempts a smile, it looks fake and insincere and Dean wishes that Sam could see it.

Could see Ruby for who she really is and not for who she purports herself to be.

“Yeah, I am,” Ruby says, she tilts her head to one side and narrows her eyes at Ryan. “And you are?”

“Ryan,” he says, the waitress chooses that moment to appear at the end of their table and she almost drops her pad and pencil on the table when she catches sight of Ryan there.

“Aren’t you?” she asks, wide eyes, Dean can see her hands shaking. They’re not going to need to worry about anyone finding Ryan’s note, this is going to be all over the Internet by the time their waitress gets their order placed.

“No,” Ryan says. Dean can tell she doesn’t believe him, but she doesn’t press the issue.

“Can I take your order?” she asks, her voice is breathless and she’s staring at Ryan.

“Eggs over easy, hashbrowns, bacon, wheat toast, with butter,” Ryan slides the menu he hadn’t even opened down the table. “And coffee, the largest coffee you have and an orange juice.”

The waitress stares at him, the point of her pencil is pressed to her pad but it hasn’t moved.

“Aren’t you going to write that down?” Ryan asks.

She stares at him and Ryan sighs, glances over at Dean, doesn’t look at where Sam is disguising the fact that he’s laughing by coughing softly into his napkin. Ruby is patting him on the back but still studying Ryan.

“He’ll have the same thing,” Ryan says. The waitress nods and Ryan finally makes a shooing motion with his hand. She stumbles away and Dean rolls his eyes as he looks over at him.

“How long are you planning on staying again?”

  


**********************************************************

  
Their eggs are completely wrong and the toast is white not wheat, at least it’s food though. Ruby leaves while they’re eating, her business with Sam apparently finished, either that or she just didn’t want to deal with Ryan staring at her with barely disguised disdain.

“She _is_ on our side,” Sam says while Ryan nibbles on the end of a piece of toast, for being hungry he’s not eating a lot.

Ryan rolls his eyes.

“You have horrible taste in companions, present company excluded of course,” Ryan says. He puts the toast down, picks up his coffee and makes a face while he’s sipping at it. “It’s a good thing I’ll be hanging out for a while.”

Sam looks at Dean and Dean shrugs as he shovels hash browns into his mouth.

Ryan will either tell them what’s going on or not (Dean’s money is on not), he’s really trying not to think about all the probably reasons why Ryan would decide that now is a good time to travel with them.

None of them are good and all of them end in Apocalypse Now.

  


**********************************************************

  
Zack is late, _Zack_ has never been late before and Spencer is trying to decide if it’ll make him look like more of a worrier then people already think he is if he picks up his phone and calls him again.

He’s left four messages already.

He’s on a first name basis with the majority of the companies that Ryan’s bills come out through, just because Ryan is successfully trying to cut them out of his life doesn’t mean that Spencer wants him to freeze to death or starve to death or be evicted from his home.

All the split had meant for Spencer was that he got to take a short break from his Ryan-tending duties, he’d handed all pertinent information over to Jon and hoped Jon could handle them and Ryan while he tried to keep Brendon from falling completely apart.

Handing over those duties subsequently meant that almost all of his updates on Ryan came from Ryan himself on Twitter because Jon had lasted a month and a half before he decided _he_ needed a break; he’s been in Chicago for the last month instead of making sure that Ryan is eating and sleeping like a normal person.

Spencer’s been thinking through possible scenarios, but there doesn’t seem to be any easy way that he can see for him to insinuate himself back into Ryan’s life.

Especially since everyone seems to _blame_ Ryan for the split, regardless of how many interviews they give where they say that it was a mutual decision.

Especially with Ryan turning avoiding anyone connected in any way with Ramen or FBR into an art form.

“Maybe he died,” Brendon says. His leg is going a mile a minute, he keeps looking at the clock on the microwave, like it’ll make Zack arrive that much faster.

“Someone would have called us,” Spencer says sensibly.

The door opens and they both turn to look, Brendon launches himself at Zack the millisecond that he sees him.

Zack catches him with ease of someone used to dealing with Brendon Urie and pats him on the head when Brendon backs off a little.

Of course then Brendon sees Jon following Zack through the door and Brendon flings himself at Jon instead, Spencer watches the door but Ryan doesn’t follow and Jon closes the door when he manages to extricate himself from Brendon’s grip.

“Was there an accident, a murder; did you save a kitten from a tree?” Brendon asks. Zack rolls his eyes at him.

“Jon called me about 1:30 this morning, said that he’d just flown in and got to the house and found that Ryan left a note and has apparently skipped town,” Zack says.

Spencer looks over at where Jon is bent over the coffee pot, he’s carefully putting together things to make coffee, he doesn’t look back.

“Do we know where he went?” Spencer asks. Even though he’s pretty sure that he knows the answer. There’s really only one place that Ryan would go now that Brendon and Spencer and Pete aren’t an option in his mind.

“Couple of fans posted crappy cell phone pictures from a diner a couple of days ago, he’s apparently with Dean and Sam Winchester,” Zack says.

Fans are good for a lot of things, keeping tabs on errant, runaway band members is one of them.

They’re also good for making a mountain out of a molehill; none of them had though the split was a bad thing until the fans had started taking the interviews apart and focused on all the things that Ryan had said, coupled with what he hadn’t said and all of a sudden they hadn’t talked in months (even though Ryan had been sharing a bed with Brendon and Pete right up to the end) and at each others throats (even though Ryan had spent a week with Spencer and his parents right before they made the decision).

Spencer rubs at a spot dead center on his forehead, it’s throbbing now and a glance at Brendon shows him leaning into Jon’s side.

Everyone’s miserable; the split was supposed to make everyone happy, let everyone work on the music that they wanted to work on in the hopes that maybe when those albums came out they would be ready to be a band again.

They’re working on the music but Spencer doesn’t think that anyone is even close to as happy as they lead others into thinking they are.

“We should go,” Brendon says. “Before we’re late and Pete worries.”

Spencer nods and Zack heads towards the door, probably to get the car. Jon is still fiddling with the coffee maker.

“Brendon…” Spencer starts.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Brendon says, he sounds tired. And as much as he professes to be pissed off at Ryan right now, Spencer knows that he and Pete would welcome him back with open arms, then possibly tie him to a bed.

  


**********************************************************

  
Dean wakes up and even with the curtains drawn he can still see that it’s dark out. He doesn’t know what woke him, can’t figure it out until he turns his head to the left and sees that Ryan’s awake.

His eyes are pointed in Dean’s direction, Dean’s pretty sure that Ryan isn’t seeing him though.

“I think that Brendon and Spencer are sleeping together,” Ryan says. His voice sounds hollow.

“Do you really believe that?” Dean asks. The last time that he’d seen them all interact Brendon and Pete had seemed pretty devoted to Ryan, if not a little confused about the whole angel thing.

“I don’t know, maybe,” Ryan says. “I wouldn’t blame them if they were.”

He rubs at his eyes with one hand. He looks exhausted and Dean wonders if he’s even sleeping when they go to bed or if he just lays there and thinks up things that his boyfriends are doing without him, thinks of all the ways that his best friends might be betraying him.

Dean’s sleeping; he’s never felt so well-rested.

“Ryan…”

“I have a mission,” Ryan says softly. “It’s critically important and someone reminded me of that fact.”

“Someone’s a douche then, you’re _allowed_ to have a life,” Dean says.

“No, I’m not, that’s not what I’m here for, people will forget all about Ryan Ross eventually, he’ll start to fade and people won’t even remember that there was a boy that was named that, Panic will always have had only three members, Brendon and Pete will always have been just Brendon and Pete.”

“You’re not going anywhere Ross, and I think those friends of yours are going to fight tooth and nail to make sure they get you back.”

Ryan sighs and ignores him. “Zachariah wasn’t wrong about anything. He just reminded me that I have priorities here that don’t include the humans that I’ve been dallying with.”

“I was right, complete douche. Zachariah your boss?”

Ryan laughs, a quick one that sounds like it was shocked out of him, it sounds amused nevertheless.

“No,” Ryan says.

He doesn’t elaborate.

“You know, I’ve been getting the rooms with two beds for a reason, Sam walks in and finds out that you’re not sleeping in it he’s going to make fun forever.”

  


**********************************************************

  
Castiel arrives one morning, three days after Ryan has joined them.

Ryan is a quiet entity in the back seat of the car, when Dean looks in the rearview mirror sometimes he’s surprised to see Ryan sitting there, like he’s forgotten that he’s back there.

It’s those times that the words that Ryan had spoke, how people would maybe start to forget him, makes him wonder if Ryan is ceasing to exist and in his place is the angel that has been playing the role for however long Ryan Ross has known that he’s not exactly human.

Dean wonders what they should be calling him; he has a feeling that ‘Ryan’ isn’t the name that he used prior to falling and becoming human.

They’ve stopped for the night, Sam has made the run for food and Dean has the laptop fired up.

Six unexplained deaths. Six nineteen year old males, no bruises, no marks, no sign of how they died other then the fact that they’re dead.

Ryan is cross-legged in the middle of the bed, he has a book open on his legs, Dean doesn’t think that he’s actually reading it.

They have one room because that’s all the motel had available. Sam has already made that face that says that he’s going to argue against having to share with anyone, Dean will let him win (though he’ll make him work for it) but only because he’s almost used to have Ryan pushed up alongside his back.

Ryan has absolutely no concept of personal space.

Castiel appears while Dean is browsing through newspaper articles, looking for some glimmer of information. Right now they’re completely blind.

Castiel makes a noise that sounds a little bit like shock, when Dean turns around Ryan and Castiel are staring at each other.

He doesn’t think that he’s ever seen Castiel rattled.

“I’m assuming you two know each other already,” Dean says. “Considering Ryan vouched for you and all.”

Castiel blinks at him; Dean has no clue what to call the expression on Castiel’s face.

“R-Ryan vouched for me?” Castiel asks, he stumbles over Ryan’s name like he’s not using to saying it and it lends a little more credence to a niggling of an idea that he’s had that the angels don’t know Ryan as Ryan.

He wonders if he asks, nicely, if Ryan would tell him what they should really be calling him.

  


**********************************************************

  
“He likes you,” Castiel says, Dean huffs out a breath. He’d been alone in the motel; Sam had dragged Ryan out behind him to get food insisting in that way that Sam has (with big puppy dog eyes and down-turned sad lips) that Ryan needed to see some sunlight or something because Sam was starting to worry that he’d turned into a vampire while they weren’t looking.

“What?”

“He likes you,” Castiel repeats, he sounds bewildered by the fact, like he doesn’t understand how Ryan _can_ like him.

“That surprises you?” Dean asks. “I’m a likable guy.”

They’ve still got no leads on the mystery death thing, Sam’s getting frustrated and Dean _knows_ there’s something going on here but he just can’t find that one clue that would put all the pieces into context.

He’s got a headache that aspirin isn’t cutting it for anymore; he almost wants to see if Sammy will punch him so he can at least have ten minutes of ringing in his head instead of throbbing pain.

“He is,” Castiel cuts himself off, and stares at the ugly painting on the wall above Dean’s head. “We are not allowed to get attached, but he has attachments to you, and those others that he was with.”

“You mean those others that your buddy Zachariah made him cut out of his life, because of his _assignment_?” Dean wonders if he sounds as pissed about that as he feels. Ryan’s only like one fifth of a person right now and Dean can tell that he misses Brendon and Pete and Spencer and Jon like a part of himself has been cut out.

“Zachariah could not have made him do anything that he did not want to do, that he did not believe to be the right thing to do,” Dean raises an eyebrow at him, because the Ryan they’re currently traveling with had most definitely _not_ wanted to cut his friends loose.

“Who is he Cas? I mean, you don’t sound like you want to be calling him Ryan, you sound like you want to be calling him something else. What’s his _real_ name?”

Castiel looks at him, his eyes are a little wider then usual which Dean takes to mean that he surprised him.

“I can not tell you,” Castiel says. He sounds slightly regretful of that fact.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Either, or both. He will tell you, I am sure, when the time is right.”

“Or when it can most be used to bite us in the ass.”

  


**********************************************************

  
Ryan disappears twelve days after he starts traveling with them, Dean wakes up one morning and he doesn’t have Ryan curled up behind him and it doesn’t dawn on him that Ryan’s not in the bathroom until he really wakes up and realizes that the bathroom door is open and the light is not on.

Ryan’s bag is gone and there is no note.

Dean hopes that he went home, went to talk to the others and figure out how they can do this without Ryan looking like he’s continually bleeding out.

He knows he hasn’t.

  


**********************************************************

  
Dean runs, like if he runs fast enough he can stop this even though he knows it’s too late.

It was too late when Castiel had broken him out of his pretty prison, when they’d gone to Chuck who’d looked at them blankly and in shock and asked them how they were there.

Castiel had gathered what was left of his power to send Dean to try and stop Sam from killing Lilith (and wow he never would have thought he’d ever be trying to save the hell bitch but there you go) and he’d stayed there, in front of Chuck, to battle the Archangel that was coming to protect Chuck.

He’d never trusted Ruby, he’d wanted to because Sam had. But something about her had never sat right with him and he knows now that it was the blood and just Ruby herself. Standing there watching her crow at Sam at how much more powerful he was with her standing beside him.

How he didn’t need Dean.

By the time he gets through the doors it’s too late, he’s there to hold Ruby while Sam ends her, but they’ve still lost.

They gaze at the portal, at the black, smoky essence that is Lucifer rising from his prison and suddenly they’re gone. Out of the room and on a plane of all things.

He doesn’t even bother freaking out, it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, they’re so completely fucked.

  


**********************************************************

  
Jon is frantic, Spencer has been trying for close to an hour to calm him down and make sense of what is being said.

Jon freaking out on the phone had been what got them all to make the trip to Ryan’s in the first place.

Spencer had been half-expecting to see Ryan finally returned from his sojourn with the Winchesters and either dead or unconscious on the floor; while he knows that Ryan’s ‘drug-use’ has been perpetuated to keep people from looking too closely at the _other_ things that are different about him since Sam Winchester tried to hand him over to Hell; sometimes when it’s days (almost a month) between phone calls or he’s only able to communicate with Ryan via Twitter it’s hard to remember that.

Ryan is nowhere to be seen though, and Spencer can’t see any evidence that Ryan has even _been_ there.

Pete is on the phone; Spencer doesn’t know with who, though Spencer thinks that if he’s not already on the phone with the men in white coats arranging to have Jon taken away, that he will be soon.

Brendon is hovering behind Spencer, he doesn’t deal well with this and the words coming out of Jon’s mouth are gibberish.

Just, “and, gone, like, and,” and lots of heavy sighing and exasperation.

Alex isn’t saying anything, just sitting on the couch that Brendon had helped him to and staring with wide eyes at nothing.

He’s been that way since they got there, Spencer doesn’t have any clue what happened but it can’t have been good. And it has to have something to do with Ryan, there’s no other reason why Alex would be catatonic on the couch and Jon would be freaking out.

Jon should have called the second that Ryan returned.

 _If_ Ryan had returned.

Spencer slaps Jon finally, it’s gentle and he doesn’t want to; but it’s the only thing he can think of to do, and it always works in the movies, when someone is in shock and babbling someone else always smacks them across the face. Jon blinks and looks at him with a betrayed expression, rubbing at his cheek, he stops babbling so Spencer counts it as a win even though he knows he’ll be buying Jon seven pairs of flip flops and a pair for himself as penance.

Jon takes a deep breath, another one; it takes five of them and Jon dragging his hands through his hair repeatedly before he looks at Spencer and seems somewhat like the Jon Walker that Spencer remembers, albeit with hair sticking up on end and wild eyes.

“Ryan,” Jon starts. Spencer can see Brendon visibly jolt, Pete’s hand drops to his side, his cell phone sliding from his hand onto the floor, Spencer hopes that he ended his call.

“Ryan was here?” Brendon asks, wide eyes and hope in his voice.

“For a second, barely a minute, I didn’t even have _time_ to figure out where I’d _put_ my cell phone, let alone call and let you know and then he was gone,” Jon says, Zack has his phone out before the words are even completely out of Jon’s mouth.

“He just, showed up, and he was standing there, right in front of me, and then there was a flash of, of _something_ , I don’t know and Ryan just, he looked at me and he was, he was so _sad_ , Spence. He said he was sorry and told me that we had to protect each other and then… he looked… he’s _gone_ …” Jon looks stricken. Spencer pulls him into a hug. Arms tight and Jon sort of collapses against him.

He twists his head and can see Brendon clutching at Pete’s hands and he can see tears in Brendon’s eyes before he twists his head away and buries it in Pete’s shoulder.

“I don’t think he’s coming back again,” Jon says into his shoulder.

  


**********************************************************

  
Dean’s phone rings and he almost doesn’t answer it, he _really_ doesn’t want to answer it.

He’s had the same headache going on two weeks now and every single call has been someone calling to tell him about a demon or a monster or something that he and Sam need to come and deal with _right away_.

He knows the world’s fucking falling apart; he’s only _got_ a front row seat for it.

But he looks at the caller ID and it shows ‘Smith’, there’s only one Smith that he knows and there’s only _one reason_ why Spencer Smith would be calling him.

Except Ryan’s not _with_ him, Dean has no _clue_ where Ryan is and he’s not answering his special-super-duper-top-secret-only-to-be-used-in-angel-emergencies cell phone either so Dean has no way to find _out_ where he is and what they should be doing.

No Ryan, no Castiel.

Only Zachariah has popped his head in to gloat about ending the world and insisting that Dean take his rightful place, Dean hadn’t even known if he’d drawn the symbol right, he’d only seen it the one time.

Hastily sketched out in Castiel’s blood and infused with his power.

It had been enough to get him out of his pretty prison, and it was enough to zap Zachariah out of the house, which alone almost makes the fact that his hand is throbbing in pain in time with his headache worth it.

“He’s not here,” he says. Sam looks over at him and he mouths _Smith_ at him. Sam flinches like he’s expecting Pete Wentz to reach through the phone and punch him again.

“He has that other phone,” Spencer says. “That special one that we’re not supposed to know about.” There’s a tone in his voice that tells Dean that he’s desperate for some small measure of hope and Dean wishes that he could give it to him.

“He’s not answering that one either,” Dean says, he knows this because he’s been trying it every half hour in the hopes that Ryan will pick up, or at least turn it back on to check his messages. “We can come to you if you want, maybe put our heads together, come up with something.”

They need someplace safe to stash Chuck anyway.

  


**********************************************************

  
They make good time though Dean still has to physically force himself to not gag Chuck and stash him in the trunk.

Chuck’s just rambling about everything and nothing, and not a single word coming out of his mouth can help them figure out what had happened to Castiel or where Ryan has vanished to.

What the hell they’re supposed to be _doing_.

You know, _useful_ things.

The remainder of Ryan’s band is apparently holed up with Pete and Dean keeps one hand locked around Chuck’s arm as they walk to the door.

It’s not going to take long before the Angel’s come looking for their Prophet and Dean wants to have Chuck under lock and key and hidden from them before it happens.

He’s just not sure how to make that happen.

Spencer flings the door open before Dean can even raise a hand to knock, evidently they’ve been waiting for them and a look behind him shows Sam with his shoulders hunched.

“Who’s this?” Spencer asks as he leads them into the bowels of Pete’s house. Dean wonders if he should have asked for breadcrumbs to leave a trail to the door.

“This is Chuck, we need somewhere to stash him for a while,” Dean says.

The room that Spencer leads them into is brightly lit, Brendon and Pete are sitting side by side on the couch, they look small and scared. Jon is sitting in front of Brendon on the floor and a guy that Dean doesn’t know is sitting semi-catatonic in a chair.

Zack is pacing in front of a window, cell phone pressed to his ear.

“He’s trying to track down Ryan,” Spencer says.

“Pretty sure Ryan is off the grid,” Dean says, he glances at Chuck and Chuck grins at him, nods.

“So far off the grid that off the grid is probably a misnomer,” Chuck agrees.

“Hmm, and here I thought you were a Prophet,” comes Zachariah’s voice from behind them. Dean whirls, pushes Chuck behind him and Sam already has his gun out.

“What do you want?” Dean snarls, he wants to throw a punch, if anyone deserves to get knocked down a peg or fifteen it’s Zachariah.

Starting an apocalypse, Jesus this guy isn’t the brightest tool in the shed and he hopes that Zachariah isn’t an indication of how intelligent the other Angels they’ll be dealing with are.

Ryan had always seemed fairly intelligent, Castiel as well, Anna from what he’d seen didn’t lack in the brains department either.

“What do I want, what do I want, so glad that you asked that of me,” Zachariah walks the room and Dean keeps him in his sights while Sam keeps the two that came with him in his.

“Then why don’t you answer the question,” Spencer snaps. Dean wants to tell him to not draw attention to himself. Pete and Brendon and Jon seem to be doing a fantastic job of attempting to disappear into the couch.

Zack is by the window and for a big guy he’s managing to blend into the curtains with ease.

“Snippy,” Zachariah stands in front of Spencer and beams at him. “I can see why he likes you.”

“Hey asshole that thought freeing Lucifer from hell was a _good_ idea, over here,” Dean snaps his fingers and glares at Spencer. Spencer seems to take the hint and goes to sit on the couch next to Brendon. Jon wraps a hand around his ankle, Brendon leans into his side.

“Now Dean,” Zachariah says. He’s got that ‘we’re all friends’ look on his face; Dean isn’t buying what he’s selling. Not this time.

“What. Do. You. Want?”

“You know what I want, Dean Winchester. No need to hash that out again,” Zachariah grins at him and Dean snarls.

“And I already told you to shove it up your ass,” except not in so many words, he thinks that Castiel growing the start of a back bone and helping Dean get out of there pretty much said the same thing.

“You’ll do it,” Zachariah says, he sounds so certain, so sure. Dean wants to ask him how he can have so much certainty, but then he remembers that Zachariah is a fucking whack job that worked to free Lucifer in the first place. “You have no choice, it’s fate, destiny, its _your_ fate, _your_ destiny.”

“It’s _my fucking choice_ , free will,” Dean says. “All us lowly humans, we have it; I’m not doing a goddamn thing that I don’t want to.”

Zachariah’s lips curl into a smirk of sorts.

“You’ll do it,” Zachariah says again. He stops in front of him, leans close and stares at him like he’s decided that Dean’s a puzzle that needs solving. “I don’t know why he likes you so much; you’re nothing but a nuisance, if we didn’t need you alive for the time being…”

“You’d what, kill me yourself?” Dean stutters a laugh, “you didn’t have Castiel drag me out of hell just to shove me right back in.”

“That, wasn’t my call, that was the last assignment handed out before our Father went silent on us,” Zachariah says.

“Besides you apparently need me to kill off Lucifer before you can try.”

“Actually we don’t need _you_ to do anything but be willing.”

Dean exchanges a confused glance with Sam. “What?”

“You didn’t think _you_ were actually going to kill Lucifer? Did you?” Zachariah laughs, like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “You’re just a vessel; you’re _Michael’s_ vessel, his sword to wield against Lucifer.”

“And he needs me willing, Michael needs me to say the all important, yeah, sure,” Dean says slowly. “Is that what Ryan’s mission was, protect me, keep me safe, so that _Michael_ can walk around in my fucking skin?”

He’s pissed at the thought, that Ryan had only been hanging around so that he could protect him until an Angel could get access to his body.

He’d thought Ryan had actually liked him, he hadn’t thought that Ryan had been using him just like Ruby had been using Sam.

A means to an end.

Zachariah smirks at him, it’s cocky and Dean has an insane urge to punch him.

“ _You_ weren’t _Ryan’s_ mission,” Zachariah says his name with derision, like Dean’s not _important_ enough to be Ryan’s assignment and that he loathes having to utter that plebian name.

Dean _is_ important enough, even if only in his own head and Ryan has never told him what his true name is, so unless someone else wants to spill the beans they’re all going to have to suck it up and use it.

“You weren’t his mission, but he made you a part of it,” Zachariah says.

“You don’t know what his assignment was at all, do you?” it’s Dean’s turn to laugh, and he does so with a gleeful edge.

Zachariah narrows his eyes at him and opens his mouth.

He doesn’t get a chance to say anything, because there’s a blink and miss it moment where Castiel wasn’t there and then suddenly is.

He looks good, alive; Dean almost breathes a sigh of relief.

Zachariah doesn’t feel the same sense of relief Dean thinks, not if the way his goons descend on Castiel is any indication. Castiel makes short work of them, bright lights and two Angels gone. Zachariah looks to be ready to say something but obviously chooses survival over death and vanishes.

Dean thinks that was probably the smartest thing that Zachariah has done since Dean had the misfortune of meeting him, because Castiel is showing emotions on his face and the most prevalent one is infuriated.

“Good to see you in one piece,” Dean says.

“You can not stay here,” Castiel says.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Dean says. “Just needed someplace to stash Chuck.”

“Chuck is not in any danger, but if you keep him under the roof with you, he will put _you_ in danger, they’ll be able to track him and we need to make them unable to track you,” Castiel says.

He touches Dean’s shoulder with one hand, Sam’s with the other and the pain is like nothing he’s ever felt. It hurts to breathe for a minute, off to his side he can see Sam struggling to take shallow breaths, hands on his knees.

Castiel’s hands drop to his side and he looks at Dean with something akin to awe.

“What?” Dean asks, he presses a hand to his chest.

Castiel shakes his head, “Nothing, for a moment I thought… but I must have been mistaken,” he sounds troubled but Dean doesn’t call him on it.

Not yet.

  


**********************************************************

  
Jon is pretty sure he has to be dreaming.

He knows this because there is no way that Ryan is sitting on the edge of his bed. Not when everyone and their brother is searching for him.

Ryan must have _ruled_ at hide and seek when he was a kid.

Jon likes to think he’s pretty important to Ryan, but there are at _least_ three other people that he _knows_ are more important then him, and that’s not counting the one that Ryan had decided was important enough that he’d travel with him and his brother for almost two weeks just prior to his disappearing act.

Two of those four are three doors down and would make room for Ryan between them because that’s his place.

Ryan smiles at him, like he knows what he’s thinking and touches his shoulder.

“I’m here for you Jon,” he says.

Definitely a dream, Ryan is an Angel, not a psychic, he can’t read minds and…

“Everyone’s looking for you,” Jon says. “That angel, Castiel? He’s worried and I think Dean and Spencer are going to use up all their minutes trying to get you on your cell phone.” He curls his arm around his pillow and peers up at Ryan. It’s dark in the room, but Ryan is kind of glowing.

“I’m okay, I’m just, things happened so fast, too fast, I wasn’t prepared,” Ryan says, he bites his lip and looks at the door longingly. “And I’m not staying for long, just… I have something I need to do, something that I didn’t have time for when the final seal broke.”

Jon reaches out a hand and links his fingers with Ryan’s. Squeezes.

“You could go see them,” Jon says. “I won’t tell anyone,” he promises. “They’ll probably think it’s the best dream ever.”

Ryan laughs a little, his eyes look sad and older then Jon remembers them being.

“Just being here long enough to do this, it puts all of you at risk, I can’t…” Ryan shakes his head. “I just want you all to be safe, so that when this is all over…”

Ryan’s eyes are wet and he’s not looking at Jon anymore.

“You’ll always be able to come home,” Jon says. “We’ll, all of us, will welcome you home with open arms.”

  


**********************************************************

  
Spencer and Jon are the best ones with the guns. Dean teaches them how to shoot, how to protect themselves and they all hole up at Pete’s.

It takes Bobby six days to get to them, but that’s probably mostly due to the fact that he kept stopping to fight shit. The three of them spend a couple of days trying to figure out their next plan of attack.

Because they need a game plan, so they can be doing _something_ other then fighting the seemingly never-ending fires that keep popping up.

Bobby finally leaves, goes back to his own home and becomes a communication center for all of them. Sending the Hunters they have left off to fight the things that crawled out of Hell when the barrier holding them back fell; he feeds Dean and Sam information whenever he finds something of interest.

It’s not as often as Dean would like. Sometimes it feels like they’re cut off from everyone else, holed up in this house with the former companions of an Angel; hunted by Angels and Demons themselves.

Castiel appears and disappears at random times. He spends one afternoon peering at Pete’s back through the window in the kitchen; Pete is running around in the backyard with no shirt on, playing with Hemmy, it’s not an uncommon sight.

“You looking for something? You keep staring at Pete like that Brendon’s going to take exception,” Dean asks. Not to mention what Ryan would do if he found it.

“Ryan has removed their protection sigils,” Castiel says quietly.

Dean moves to stand next to him and looks out at where Pete is kneeling, Hemmy is licking his face, Pete is rubbing hands down his back and Brendon is a short distance away lounging on the grass.

“Why would he…?” Dean shakes his head. These are Ryan’s most important people, to remove the protection that he’d put in place for whatever reasons just don’t make any sense.

“I only looked because I was not sure if he had the time before Lucifer rose to do so,” there’s a tone to his voice that sounds like Castiel is troubled by this. “If they were there I thought to hide them, to cloak them like I’ve cloaked you and Sam...”

Dean looks out the window, he’d said one word before, had uttered it just to prove a hunch, and it had worked over phone lines, he utters the word now and nothing happens.

“If he had left them in place they would have been a beacon, a shining light for anyone who knew how to activate the sigils to locate them. ‘Here are humans protected by an angel of the Lord’. They would have been a target, if only to attempt to draw him out of hiding.”

“So he’s protecting them,” Dean scratches his forehead, he’s getting frustrated with the headache and Sam has started giving him looks when he tosses back the aspirin now. “By not protecting them?”

Castiel turns away from the window and Dean turns as well, starts slightly when he sees Spencer and Jon standing in the doorway, Sam is leaning against the refrigerator.

He hadn’t even heard any of them enter the room.

“When did he remove them?” Spencer asks softly, he’s got one arm wrapped around himself like he’s cold; the other is latched onto Jon’s arm.

“Yours, theirs,” Castiel gestures towards the backyard with one of his hands. “They were removed some time ago, they have almost completely faded into obscurity, if you do not know what to look for you would not be able to tell that they were even there once. Yours,” he looks directly at Jon, “were removed just days ago, a week at the most, as were the ones that were on the young man who does not speak.”

“We haven’t heard a whisper from Ryan in almost a month,” Dean says. “How did he remove them without…”

“He has been here, in this house, he would have had to lay hands on both of them in order to remove them,” Castiel sounds almost hurt, that Ryan had been in the house and not sought him out… hell Dean is feeling the same way. He’d kind of thought of the kid as a friend of sorts.

Of course there’s also the fact that Ryan has seemingly made _himself_ invisible, like Castiel has made Sam and Dean invisible; both sides are searching for him, Zachariah with more of an intent to find then Lucifer.

Lucifer seems split between poking at Sam and finding Ryan.

Whoever Ryan is supposed to be, he’s pretty important to both sides. Dean thinks the day is coming up, probably sooner then either side would like, that someone is going to have to tell them _why_.

“I had a dream,” Jon says slowly. “I thought it was a _dream_ , because he’s in hiding and why would he…”

Spencer makes a sound.

“He was really there? I wasn’t dreaming?” Jon asks, Castiel nods slowly; Jon bites his lip and exchanges a look with Spencer. “Don’t tell them,” he says finally. “They don’t need to know.”

  


**********************************************************

  
The unmasking of the Trickster as the Archangel Gabriel doesn’t come as so much of a shock as the fact that once they know who he really is they can’t seem to get rid of him.

Gabriel won’t even explicitly side with them, just smirks at them and tells them that he prefers to keep all his options open.

Then he’ll throw a Frisbee for Hemmy or mutter about Pete’s seeming ban of sugar in his house (Brendon hopped up on sugar and Red Bull is not a fun experience, Dean agrees with Pete’s ban in theory if not practice.)

It’s just frustrating to walk downstairs and see him sharing a cup of coffee with Jon or watching TV with Pete and Brendon when he won’t admit that he’s allied with them. The draw for him seems to be Ryan’s family and Dean can’t figure out exactly why though he’s _sure_ it has to be an Angel thing.

“They are his only link to who he was right now, and he has been far removed from our brethren for a lengthy period of time,” Castiel says one afternoon, Dean has been working out in Pete’s gym. Dean isn’t sure why Pete _has_ a gym; nobody appears to ever use it besides him and Sam.

Of course Pete had seemed almost surprised that he even _had_ one so it might have just come with the house.

“Ryan’s not talking to him?” Dean asks, he doesn’t think he even really needs to; Ryan isn’t talking to _anyone_ as far as he can see, and the fans that had before kept the others abreast of what was going with Ryan can’t see to find him either. There are rumors going around that he’s dead and that it’s being hidden by Pete and the others for a variety of different reasons; Dean would be working to dispel them but he’s not sure if it’s worth it.

Ryan will pop up when Ryan’s ready to pop up.

He’s punching a bag. He’s been doing that a lot, there are not actual pictures of Lucifer or Zachariah or even Gabriel on it, but he’s always been good at visualization exercises.

“He doesn’t know?” Gabriel asks, Dean doesn’t jump and doesn’t turn, from the sound of Gabriel’s voice it sounds like he’s sitting on the stairs watching.

“Know what?” Dean asks, he throws a vicious punch at the bag, it hurts all the way up to his shoulder and he stops and rolls his shoulders, lets his arms hang at his sides.

When he turns Gabriel is looking at Castiel not him. They’re completely focused on each other. Dean might as well not even be there.

“Who is he?” Dean asks. Gabriel tears his eyes from Castiel and stares at Dean instead.

“He’s my brother,” Gabriel says.

“Yeah, I know that,” Dean rolls his eyes, snorts. Because way to tell him something he already fucking knew. “You’re all one big happy fucked up beyond all recognition family.”

“There was just the seven of us at the beginning,” Gabriel says like Dean hadn’t said anything, though his eyes spark a little with anger. “There was Father and then there was us; Michael, Raphael, Phanuel, Saraqael, Raguel, Camael and me; the others, like Castiel and Zachariah they came later and they’re still my brothers; but those six… they are my _brothers_ , they’re the ones that I stood at the beginning of time with and there is hope that we’ll stand at the end of time together as well.”

“You’re saying that Ryan is an Archangel,” Dean says slowly, because those seven names, there’s only one thing they all have in common and there’s a niggling sense of _something_ that says that he should have known this already. “Ryan, little Ryan, who can barely take care of himself… which one of them is he?”

“Raphael,” Castiel says. His voice is quiet, hushed. Like he doesn’t want anyone to hear him.

“Raphael,” Dean stutters a laugh, “You want me to believe that _Ryan_ is the Archangel Raphael, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Father requested this of him. Father asked him to fall, asked him to perform a task here; it’s why he’s different then Anael, why he was not hunted for falling as she was. Anael fell without the permissions of our Father; Raphael was _chosen_ to do this.”

“You don’t know what his mission is?”

“After my time,” Gabriel says as Castiel shakes his head.

“I was not privy to that information, Father spoke to him alone and Raphael never breathed one word of what was asked of him, not prior to falling, not after he reached enlightenment.”

“Is that why he’s so important? Why Zachariah and Lucifer are both hunting for him?”

“He is an Archangel, the only one left besides Michael that has not explicitly chosen a side,” Castiel says.

“Hey,” Gabriel says hotly.

“You may not have said the words but the fact that you remain here speaks louder then any words need to. You have chosen our side, and all other sides know this. The Archangel Gabriel is aligned with Dean Winchester.”

“So that just leaves Ryan, because from the way that Zachariah talks I’m guessing that Michael is pretty much in their pocket already,” Dean says.

“Wishful thinking on Zachy’s place,” Gabriel says. “I know Michael, he finds out that Zachariah planned this whole thing and actually allowed Lucifer to be freed… well hell hath no fury and all.”

“When can we expect Michael to start showing himself,” Dean says. He’s been wondering that for a while, since Lucifer began making his push at Sam in dreams and visions, whispering in his ear and promising Sam everything and anything.

Michael’s not done that, he’s not even begun and it’s probably all well and good that Dean can say no now, he wonders if he’ll still be able to when Michael really starts actively trying to court his permission to wear his body into a war that Dean’s not sure they can win.

Even with a couple of Archangels in their corner.

“Michael is already here,” Castiel says vaguely, Gabriel eyes him with an arched eyebrow, then looks over at Dean with a knowing expression on his face.

“Really? Was Zach wrong then? He’s going after someone else?” Dean feels oddly disappointed. He doesn’t even get the chance to say no? That hardly seems fair.

“No,” Castiel says. Dean waits but he doesn’t say anything else, just stands there with his hands linked together in front of him and watching Dean.

“Okay.”

“Well look at it this way, all the chess pieces are almost finally in play, so that means that the end is nigh folks.”

“I thought you didn’t want to fight, I thought you just wanted it to be over with.”

“I do, but it’s been a really long time since we had a good old-fashioned family brawl. It should be interesting at least to see if anyone has learned any new tricks,” Gabriel smirks at him. “I’m sure you’ll find you have.”

Dean doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he doesn’t think he really _wants_ to know either.

  



	2. FIC: Angels Among Us 2: Apocalypse Now - R - 2/2

**Angels Among Us 2: Apocalypse Now**

  
There’s a sighting of Ryan, the first one in almost a month and a half and it explodes all over the internet since pretty much everyone had all but declared him dead.

Dean would liken it to Elvis sightings, but Ryan’s not famous enough for the National Enquirer and his fans have a different outlet regardless.

They find out because Pete is nothing if not addicted to his computer and he logs into his Twitter account to tell everyone that he’s having his first cup of coffee and finds over 500@ pointing him in the direction of three grainy, cell phone pictures.

They’re awful and blurry, though it is unmistakably Ryan, he’s got a boy by his side that looks to be around twelve or so, The on-line groups are currently speculating that Ryan Ross apparently has a kid, Dean knows that kids are starting young nowadays, but Ryan would had to have been _ten_ if he was going to have a kid that looks about twelve.

Dean, personally, would have gone with the more logical unknown brother angle but whatever.

He doesn’t look to be in any sort of danger except from maybe starving to death; he’s looking altogether too thin. Nothing a sandwich or five wouldn’t take care of.

Gabriel and Castiel still take off in a flurry of motion.

“Don’t wait up,” Gabriel calls as they disappear.

“I hate it when they do that,” Spencer mutters. “They can’t just walk out the door and then do it, no; they have to do it right in front of us. Show offs.”

Dean looks at him, Spencer’s scowling with his arms crossed over his chest looking like a petulant five year-old; Jon, who’s sitting next to him looks bemused.

“Spencer’s just pissy because they’re hopefully going after Ryan and they didn’t take him with,” Jon offers.

Nobody mentions the boy that Ryan had been with and Dean goes back to flipping through a pointless book.

This war that’s started isn’t going to be won by information gleaned from books written by people who didn’t know what the hell they were talking about in the first place.

It’s going to be won by Angels and Hunters and he has a feeling they’re going to be playing it completely by ear.

He pushes fingers against his temples and closes his eyes. The headache throbs behind his temples and he’s almost used to it now, the constant pain, though it still hurts like daggers are being shoved through his eyes; he hears a clatter of something on the table in front of him and when he reopens his eyes he can see Brendon standing there and on the table in front of him are two aspirin.

“Thanks,” he mutters.

Brendon manages a small smile and then goes back to staring at the door.

  


**********************************************************

  
Castiel and Gabriel come back without Ryan or the boy; they both look battered and worn.

Dean dry-swallows two more aspirin and studies them.

“It was like a family reunion, you know, the relatives you don’t mind seeing but only if you don’t have to actually _talk_ to them and the ones that you want to avoid at all costs because they might kill you in your beds, and then there’s the one that everyone showed up to see because they were the favorite and _he_ bolts as soon as he sees the turnout so everyone makes small talk and throws punches and threatens smiting,” Gabriel says.

“Did you even _see_ him there?” Sam asks, he sounds tired, when Dean looks over at him he can see that he _looks_ tired too.

Sam’s exhausted and Dean’s obviously got a tumor or something and he hopes the angels have a Plan B because he’s pretty sure the tumor is getting ready to burst.

“Yeah, for about two seconds. Then Lucifer jumps out and Zachariah and Camael were there and it was like showdown in the wild, wild West.”

“The boy is not his,” Castiel says, he glances over at Gabriel.

“Blond hair, blue eyes, he’s twelve, maybe thirteen and he calls him Raphael,” Gabriel says, he ignores the indrawn breaths from Brendon and Pete, ignores Spencer’s narrowing eyes and Jon’s arms crossing over his chest. Dean had kind of forgotten that they didn’t know. “Pretty sure that the boy is the reason that Raphael was chosen to fall.”

“But the boy isn’t why everyone’s looking for him,” Dean says. “Nobody even _knew_ about the boy until the pictures hit the net, everyone dropped everything because it was Ryan and there was finally a sighting, what’s so special about him that you all would do that?”

Gabriel exchanges a look with Castiel then steps back, arms crossing over his chest, face set in stony silence.

“There are tiers to the Angelic hierarchy,” Castiel starts; his voice is quiet, hushed, like he’s fearful of being overheard. “Father is of course at the top of all tiers; at the next tier there are seven, the Archangels, each leading a battalion of some repute, three of those seven are a step higher then the other four and report directly to Father, those three also have duties that fall upon them and them alone. Michael is Father’s Sword, Gabriel is Father’s Strength and Raphael is Father’s Healer. When the Apocalypse comes, when the sides meet face to face for that last battle, whichever side wins will need Raphael to heal the wounds of those that fall, as well as the ground upon which we stand and go to battle.”

“Ryan knows this?” Dean asks, he’s pretty sure he does. He’s also pretty sure that since Ryan is hiding out, not choosing any side at all that Ryan doesn’t want to have to make that choice.

Or maybe he’s waiting for something. Though Dean thinks it’s more that he’s waiting for _someone_.

Most likely the still absent Michael.

“Of course,” Castiel says.

“Michael fights and I give them all strength to continue and once we’re all done tearing each other into tiny, bloody pieces Raphael comes in and puts the survivors all back together again so that eventually we can do it all over again.”

“Ryan can barely keep himself together,” Spencer says. “You can’t expect us to believe…”

“He doesn’t need to keep himself together,” Gabriel says. “That’s what he has us for.”

  


**********************************************************

  
Brendon is sitting on the back porch, it’s his turn to take Hemmy out and he’s waiting while Hemmy pokes around leaves and brush, pokes his nose into bushes.

He makes a whuffing noise and ambles off across the yard.

“ _Hemmy_ ,” Brendon sighs, he climbs to his feet and goes to find him.

The backyard isn’t completely lit, it’s not dark yet, it’s just coming up on dusk; the trees still cast ominous shadows across the grass. He could probably call one of the guys but they’ll make fun forever if he admits the backyard is freaking him out.

He stops dead when he finds Hemmy, makes a sound low in his throat that he thinks could probably be misconstrued as a whine.

“Ryan,” he breathes. Hemmy’s on his back, Ryan’s on his knees running a slow hand over Hemmy’s stomach.

“Hi Brendon,” Ryan smiles at him, Brendon can’t help himself, he returns it, then flings himself at Ryan, tumbling them both backwards onto the ground.

Brendon peppers kisses over his cheeks and lips and nose, his hands run over his arms.

“I can’t stay,” Ryan says, he places both hands on Brendon’s face and kisses him softly, sweetly. It’s reminiscent of the first time they kissed, when it was just the two of them, before there was Pete.

Before there was Angels and Demons and a war between Heaven and Hell that Ryan apparently stands smack dab in the middle of.

“Pete,” Brendon says, he lets Ryan get them to their feet and then wraps his arms around him in a tight hug, the way that Ryan clings to him in return Brendon thinks that he’s probably starved for affection, for touch.

The boy, whoever he is, is falling down on the job.

“I can’t, you were outside and I…” Ryan kisses him again. “I shouldn’t even be here, not yet, it puts you all in danger, draws Zachariah and Lucifer closer to you then I want them.”

“We know,” Brendon says, he strokes fingers down the side of Ryan’s face, spreads his fingers over the contours of Ryan’s face and kisses him again. “We know who you are.”

Ryan laughs harshly. “I should have figured that Gabriel couldn’t keep his mouth shut, he always was the most horrible gossip ever.”

“The Archangel Raphael,” Brendon says with disbelief, he still can’t believe it, _doesn’t_ believe it.

“It’s just a name,” Ryan says awkwardly. “I have a lot of them.”

“You shouldn’t be here, brother,” Gabriel’s voice comes from the dark, Ryan whips around, his body in front of Brendon’s like he means to protect him.

“I know.”

“And I think Saraqael was a bigger gossip then I could _ever_ have thought of being,” Gabriel steps forward, stops right in front of them. His hand reaches out and touches Ryan’s face, Brendon would make a sound of objection but there’s nothing romantic in the way that Gabriel is looking at Ryan.

“You should go,” Gabriel says softly, Ryan nods. “We’ve got this for now, Castiel and I will let no harm come to them.”

Ryan turns, tugs on Brendon’s hands until they’re hugging again, then presses a gentle kiss to his forehead and steps away.

“Raphael,” Gabriel says, Ryan doesn’t turn to face him again. “It’ll be soon I think, are you ready?”

Ryan turns his head, grins wryly at him. “It’s been a long time brother, but I think I can manage.”

Gabriel laughs and there’s a twinkling, amused sound to it, when Brendon turns his attention back to where Ryan was standing he’s gone.

“He’ll be back,” Gabriel says, he drops an arm over Brendon’s shoulders and urges him in the direction of the house.

  


**********************************************************

  
Gabriel leads Brendon into the house, arm slung companionably over his shoulder.

Brendon looks; Spencer narrows his eyes at him. Brendon is glowing, eyes happy and bright for the first time since Ryan went missing almost two months ago.

“What…?” he starts to ask. Brendon throws his arms around Pete, presses his lips against his and Pete makes a muffled sound. Most likely ‘what the hell’ but then he kisses Brendon back, hands coming up to rest on Brendon’s hips.

When Pete draws back, he makes a face, then licks his lips and looks at Brendon. “You taste like that lipstuff that Ryan uses,” Brendon beams at him. “You saw Ryan?”

Pete makes to head for the door and Gabriel heads him off.

“He’s gone,” Gabriel says.

“He said that he wasn’t supposed to be here, that he wasn’t going to even say hi or anything but I was outside and he,” Brendon shrugs.

“He looks okay?” Jon asks, he rests his chin on Spencer’s shoulder, arms going around his chest.

“He looks tired,” Brendon says, he looks at Gabriel for confirmation and Gabriel nods. “He was happy to see me and he gave Hemmy pets, and…” Brendon can’t seem to stop smiling, he hugs Pete again.

  


**********************************************************

  
Dean wakes up and it feels like someone is splitting his head open with an axe. He wishes they’d get it done and over with.

He wraps his arms over his head and he doesn’t whine but that’s only because he thinks if he moves that he’s either going to throw up or scream. He’s not quite sure which.

He also might pass out but he doesn’t think that would necessarily be a bad thing.

“Dean?” he hears from the doorway, it’s Sammy and he wants to respond, he really does, he should. He doesn’t say anything, can’t.

There’s silence and he wonders if Sam is standing there staring at him, if he is that’s kind of creepy.

He knows that Sam left when there’s a flurry of movement at the doorway signaling his return and the fact that he brought people with him.

“It’s time,” he hears Gabriel say.

He should ask ‘time for what’, ask if someone had poisoned him or if Gabriel and Castiel have been working for Zachariah for this whole time and they were waiting for the tumor to take over so that he would agree to Michael’s presence in his body just to get the pain to stop.

He doesn’t, he lets darkness and silence take him instead.

  


**********************************************************

  
When he comes to again he’s in a bright room, he opens his eyes and immediately regrets it, he makes gasping, panting noises and he sounds completely pathetic.

He feels a cool hand on his head and then a hand lifting his head, pressing a glass to his lips.

“It is just water,” Castiel says when Dean shakes his head and clamps his mouth shut. He regrets it immediately, but if he’s been poisoned he sure as hell doesn’t want any _more_ in his system.

“You shouldn’t be touching him,” Gabriel says idly.

“He needs liquids,” Castiel says. It sounds like a fight they’ve been having for a while.

He gives in and takes a quick swallow, then greedily downs the remainder of the glass. Castiel pats his face dry with a towel and lays his head back down on the pillow that Dean hadn’t noticed before.

“Wha?” he manages, his tongue feels like it’s two sizes too big for his mouth.

“It is okay,” Castiel soothes.

“Sam,” Dean says, it’s more a breath then a word but Sam appears behind Castiel so he knows he was understood.

“It’s okay Dean,” Sam says.

Dean doesn’t believe him because Sam looks scared and Dean can count the number of things that scare Sam on one hand.

  


**********************************************************

  
Dean is screaming. Spencer wishes that there was something he could be doing other then sitting in a chair trying to block out the screams.

Nothing that Gabriel or Castiel is doing seems to be working and Dean is a pale, sweating mess on a pile of blankets and pillows in Pete’s living room.

All the furniture has been moved back against the walls and Dean is in the direct center of the room. When they’d moved him there instead of leaving him in the darkness of the bedroom where he’d been sleeping they’d forced everyone else in as well.

“We all need to stay together,” Castiel had said. “We are at our weakest right now, and we can not afford any interruptions.” Then both of them had cut their hands and spent almost ten minutes painting symbols in blood along the edges of every entryway.

“I’m not cleaning that up,” Pete had said. It was the _last_ thing he’d said, now he’s sitting on the couch, fingers pressed into his ears, eyes tightly closed humming something low under his breath.

Brendon is pressed tightly to his side and he hasn’t regressed that far but he visibly looks like he wants to be doing the same thing.

Jon is in a straight-backed chair, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around him. He’s watching with hooded eyes.

Alex sits much the same way that he has been since the day that Ryan vanished. Silent and watchful, with no hint of life in his eyes.

“This is taking too long,” Gabriel says. “Something’s wrong.”

“It has been a long time, there are many barriers that need to be broken through, and we do not know what safeguards Father put into place to protect his mind.”

Gabriel makes a huffing noise.

“Patience, Gabriel,” Castiel says.

“I can’t believe you’re counseling me on patience at a time like this,” Gabriel snorts.

“It will be any time now,” Castiel says.

  


**********************************************************

  
When Dean begins convulsing on the floor even Castiel’s seemingly unbreakable composure snaps. He steps towards Dean at the same time as Gabriel makes an aborted movement forward.

“Don’t touch him,” comes a snappish, irritated voice. Spencer’s eyes fly to the doorway and Ryan is standing there.

Looking beautiful and tall and not entirely human.

It’s probably the hint of wings that keep flashing in and out of view. Spencer blinks and they’re there, he blinks again and they’re gone.

“Ryan,” Brendon breathes, he squeezes Pete’s hand and Pete’s eyes open and he comes to his feet.

Ryan spares them a smile and goes directly to Dean, kneeling beside him, Sam is across from him and the look he shoots at Ryan begs him to help his brother. Castiel and Gabriel stand on either side of him. Gabriel lays one hand on his shoulder.

He lays a hand on Dean’s forehead and it stills his movements, his eyes opening.

“Ryan,” Dean mumbles.

“Not quite,” Ryan says softly, he strokes the hand over Dean’s face, then leans down and presses a chaste kiss to Dean’s lips.

“Wha’s happ’nin?”

“It’s okay,” Ryan says, “just relax, its okay, it’s all going to be okay.”

“I didn’ give permiss…” Dean mumbles, his voice sounds heavy, like he’s having difficulty talking.

“You don’t need to give permission, Dean,” Ryan says. “No one is going to take your body; it’ll be yours and yours alone, all your memories will still be there, there’ll just be… a little more of them.”

“I don’t…”

“I was alone when I reached enlightenment,” Ryan says softly, his voice is quiet and Spencer steps forward, standing to the right of Sam’s shoulder, he thinks that if they miss this that Ryan will never speak these specific words in this specific sentence again. “My dad was a mean drunk and he raised his fists more times then not when he had a couple of drinks in him, I’ve written songs attesting to that fact.”

Dean manages to lift a hand and links his fingers with Ryan’s, squeezing tightly.

“I was seventeen, we had a three day weekend for something, parent/teacher conference or maybe there was a holiday, I don’t really remember, the days leading up to it are hazy. I’d had a migraine for almost two weeks, I was downing aspirin and cold medicine and anything that I thought would just take the edge off, dull the pain enough so that I could think, so I could spend time with my friends without thinking that beating my head against a brick wall would be a more suitable alternative.”

Ryan looks up at Spencer, at where Jon is standing next to him now and over where Brendon and Pete are standing together, hands linked, nothing but love in their eyes.

Ryan looks away, back down at Dean, strokes a hand across the top of his head.

“The last time my dad hit me was really the only time that mattered; he came home, already drunk, I don’t… I was in the kitchen making a sandwich and my dad saw me and… I’m pretty sure that I died, when I woke up, when I became aware again, I was alone in the kitchen and there was blood all around me and I know I only survived because of what I am.”

“Ya ’member?”

“I remember only the first blow that my dad landed, I remember hitting the refrigerator and going to my knees. When I woke up I remembered thousands upon thousands of years, of wars and my brothers, and I knew that I was not alone here, that I was not the only one that Father had sent here, that Michael was here as well, born to a mother that had made a deal with Azazel to save the father of her future born children’s life. The mother found a loophole in her agreement with Azazel and made a deal with Father that she hoped would cancel out the deal she’d made with Azazel.”

“Raphael,” Gabriel begins.

“That she even had to make that deal, to find a loophole was my fault, I was the one to initially bind Azazel,” Ryan says. “I buried him under rocks in the middle of a barren desert and it should have been enough to hold him, I underestimated Lucifer’s desire to be free once more.”

“Not,” Dean says.

“It’s neither here nor there, what’s done is done and cannot be undone,” Ryan says. “What it all means, is while Zachariah was trying to coax you into accepting a silent Michael, Michael was already in place getting more and more pissed off, what matters is that Michael was born, like me, to human parents. Lived a human life and seeing as how you’re not in mortal danger of bleeding to death on your kitchen floor, it stands to reason that your enlightenment would happen slightly different.”

Ryan leans forward, lays his forehead against Dean’s.

“It’s time Dean to let all parts of yourself out, you will not lose yourself but we need the knowledge that is hidden away in the section of your mind that is locked up as Michael.”

“I…” Dean says, his eyes open, light flashing in them and his back arches as he screams.

  


**********************************************************

  
Dean is wrapped up in blankets on the couch when Zachariah knocks three times on the door. He’s been wondering when he was going to make his grand appearance and he rubs at his head.

Memories and thoughts still settling into their rightful places.

Sam touches his shoulder and looks at him questioningly.

“You can let him in,” Dean says. “It’ll be interesting to see if he can tell.”

Sam leaves and Dean looks over to where Brendon is curled up on the opposite side of the couch.

“We won’t take him away from you,” Dean says, Brendon looks at him, then over at where Pete is standing in front of a window.

“You can’t promise that,” Brendon says.

Ryan hadn’t stayed long once the gates holding Michael back had opened, he’s Dean Winchester and he’s the Archangel Michael and he has seven brothers and one of them is human and the other six are not, he has two Fathers and one mother and a multitude of siblings that aren’t really siblings but have always been counted as such.

“Is it getting any less confusing?” Brendon asks.

“Not really,” Dean rubs a hand over his face.

“Who do you think the boy is?” Brendon asks. That’s where Ryan had disappeared to, back to his post protecting this twelve year-old boy.

“I don’t know,” Dean says honestly; he has his suspicions though.

  


**********************************************************

  
Zachariah can’t tell, he looks at Dean and he expects to see Dean Winchester so that is all sees, he’s blind to the newness of Michael stretching in his mind, holding himself in check because he’s pissed. That this little lieutenant has taken it upon himself to promote himself past the rank that he should be…

Camael stands at his side and _Camael knows_ , Dean can tell this by the way that his eyes don’t ever leave Dean’s face, other then to meet Gabriel’s so they can share a smirk amongst themselves.

 _Brothers_. Dean sighs.

Ryan had wanted to keep things hidden. Keep Zachariah and his followers from finding out that Michael is awake and walking amongst them once more. If Camael knows…

“I will stay for the moment,” Camael says when Gabriel and Castiel indicate that Zachariah has overstayed his welcome. “It has been a long while since I have had the opportunity for conversation with Gabriel.”

Zachariah very obviously doesn’t want to anger Gabriel; he needs him just like he needs Michael walking and talking and Raphael waiting in the wings to do his thing and he doesn’t have the sort of power that would be required to order Camael to leave regardless of the fact that he has followers and most likely counts Camael among them.

“You know where to find us,” Zachariah says, he can’t hide the scorn in his eyes when he glares at Dean.

Dean smirks at him from his pile of blankets and waves.

Camael waits for Zachariah to leave and when the door closes behind him and Castiel reappears in the door to the living room he smiles.

He doesn’t look anything like the images in Dean’s head, the only one that comes close is Ryan, he wonders if that is because Ryan is, was human, reborn in the image of Raphael.

“Lucifer grows stronger every day,” Camael says. “And Zachariah will start pushing very soon, if he does not figure it before then it will be nothing short of a miracle.”

“Zachariah isn’t smart enough to put the pieces together without someone giving him a little help,” Gabriel says, he arches an eyebrow at Camael.

“I am not telling him, I have to live with all of you when this is done, Zachariah I can do without, my brothers I would like back in one piece more or less.”

Gabriel smirks.

  


**********************************************************

  
Ryan yells as the barriers buckle, the boy is pressed against the wall behind him and Ryan tries to press the barriers back in place even though he knows it’s futile. He herds the boy toward an exit point that is not in jeopardy of falling under Lucifer’s immediate assault.

He doesn’t know how they were found, he’s been oh so careful when he has to venture out.

There’s a small corner of the room that hasn’t been touched yet, either Lucifer is pushing his advantage by concentrating his attentions in specific areas or he hasn’t realized that the entire house is lined with exit points that Ryan (and the boy if Ryan allows him to do so, he is what he is but to Ryan’s eyes (and all other eyes) he’s also only a boy) can open with blood and power.

Ryan has one hand on the boys back, keeping them linked for now, fifteen steps and he kneels, the windows had blown out first, the barriers are the only thing keeping the demons licking at Lucifer’s boot heels from climbing through. He picks up a piece of the broken glass littering the ground and allows it to slice into the skin of his palm, when he stands again he presses his hand to the symbols on the right side of the exit point, they flare white with power and the boy grabs for his wrist when he realizes what Ryan means to do.

No one knows about the boy, just that there is one, they don’t know what his importance is and he can do this.

He can get the boy somewhere safe, he can’t go with him though, he knows this with certainty. If he goes with him Lucifer will continue hunting, if he just sends the boy Lucifer will stop hunting and maybe they’ll still have a chance to win.

As long as Ryan doesn’t break, he hopes he’s strong enough to not break.

“Raphael, I forbid it,” the boy says desperately, hands grasping for his wrists as Ryan pushes him into the portal and forces it closed behind him.

He feels the barriers crumple and it forces him to his knees as they ricochet back on him; he’s taking gasping, pained breaths, arms wrapped around his chest when he feels the hands on his head. Tilting his head back.

The body that Lucifer wears is nearly worn through, he either needs Sam Winchester to agree very quickly or he needs Ryan to prolong the life of the body he wears.

The chances of either happening are slim to none.

“My dearest brother,” he croons, he lifts the hand that Ryan sliced and studies it, drags his tongue across Ryan’s palm and grins at him, Ryan winces, tries to yank his hand back.

“Don’t be like that, dear Raphael,” he says, he links their hands together, palm to palm and stands over Ryan. Staring down at him.

“I will not side with you,” Ryan says, he pulls on his hand but Lucifer’s grip is strong and sure, there is blood on his mouth and it sickens him to know that it’s his.

“Oh, you don’t need to,” Lucifer says. “This is all going to be over very, very soon and we’ll all be together…”

“You’ll destroy everything.”

“Just the things that don’t matter.”

  


**********************************************************

  
The boy appears when Pete has Brendon pressed against a wall. He’s kissing him, alternately biting his lower lip and Brendon is about thirty seconds away from suggesting that they take this to a more private venue before someone walks past and suggests it for them.

“Um,” the voice is young and awkward, Pete jumps back and Brendon jerks.

Pete looks to the right, Brendon to the left and there’s a wall there, or rather there was _only_ a wall there and now there is a boy is standing there, leaning _against_ the wall, blood on his face and arms, some sort of black powder in his blonde hair.

He looks familiar and Brendon can _feel_ his eyes going wide.

“Where’s Ryan?” he asks. The boy is the one that was in the pictures with Ryan, the one that Ryan had to leave them to go back to.

“Michael or Gabriel or Castiel,” the boy says. “One of them, _now_.” The tone of his voice indicates that he’s used to _having_ his orders followed.

Brendon starts down the hallway without even thinking about it. The boy and Pete follow.

The others are all in the living room; Dean and Gabriel are on the couch, there is a book open in Dean’s lap and Castiel is leaning over his shoulder.

Spencer and Jon are sitting in front of the fireplace; Sam is at the desk with his head in his hands.

“Um,” Brendon says, the boy moves past him into the center of the room.

Gabriel’s eyes go wide, as do Castiel’s, Dean just smirks.

“Father,” Castiel breathes.

Brendon looks at the boy and blinks, he looks really young to be God.

  


**********************************************************

  
“Raphael was the only one that I told,” the boy says, he’s been seated on the couch, a blanket placed over his shoulders. Jon has made hot water for tea and he’s holding it in his hands. “I told him that I would need to be here for the end and asked him for his protection and his silence.”

“And he gave it,” Gabriel says.

“Raphael was always one of the ones that I could rely on to do what needed to be done.”

“It’s why you sent him back when his cover was blown originally, because your plans hadn’t changed, and you still needed Ryan to be in place when they came to fruition,” Dean says.

The boy nods, sips his tea.

“This body was dormant, the boy who it housed was in an accident several years ago, his parents perished and the body has been kept alive on life support, for what reason I do not know,” he sounds bewildered. “The boys’ soul has long since been accepted into heaven’s embrace.”

“Where’s Ryan now?” Dean asks. They keep pussyfooting around the question; they need to know what they’re dealing with.

They _need_ to know if they’re completely fucked.

“We were staying in a house, a safe haven. We made it as secure as we could, we lined it with exit points and made the barriers protecting us as impenetrable as we were able, we made it undetectable by either Angels or Demon’s, I do not know how we were found.”

“I’d like my amulet back now,” Dean says, Castiel looks at him. “We found God, he’s sitting on the couch drinking fucking tea, I’m thinking I can put my amulet back around my neck because he isn’t going anywhere.”

“Michael,” the boy admonishes. Dean looks at him. “Or I can call you Dean if you rather, if that makes you feel more comfortable.”

“Ryan?” Spencer prompts.

“Lucifer broke the barriers on the house, as I said I do not know how we were located. He broke the barriers and Raphael got me to an exit point, I thought he was going to come through with me, I thought… I forbid him from doing it, I could tell that he thought to sacrifice himself to make certain I escaped, in this instance he is more important to Lucifer then I, Lucifer does not know that I am here, walking among you. He desires Raphael because he desires Raphael to heal the body that he inhabits.”

“Raphael is strong, he will not do what Lucifer wishes and Lucifer will not harm him, he needs him for the end,” Castiel says, the boys’ eyes rest on him and Castiel bows his head.

“Lucifer needs him alive, Lucifer need not destroy him to do him harm.”

  


**********************************************************

  
Ryan’s asleep, or unconscious, he thinks it doesn’t matter anymore. Regardless he’s not conscious so he’s pretty sure he’s dreaming.

Because that would be the only reason that Brendon and Gabriel would be standing before him.

Ryan blinks at them through the dancing of the flames of the Holy Fire that is keeping him confined.

“Brendon,” he says. “Gabriel.”

Brendon has a hand pressed against his mouth, but Gabriel manages a thin smile and a whispered “Brother.”

“I’m okay,” he says. It would probably help if he could put some force behind it, he doesn’t even know which one he’s trying to convince.

Lucifer won’t kill him, he knows this, but he also has no qualms about taking out his anger and frustration on a target that he knows won’t die by human means. When Lucifer’s done he lets his pet demons play, he doesn’t even want to know what sort of picture he presents to Brendon and Gabriel.

He hurts, all over, it can’t be a good picture.

“We’ll…” Brendon clears his throat. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

Ryan closes his eyes, shakes his head. He should come to his feet, should move to the edges of the barrier, he can’t find the energy to do so.

“The boy?” he asks. He’s not important in the long run, in the battle that will be fought, he’s inconsequential, it’s only _after_ the battle that he becomes a necessity.

And depending on which side wins and whatever their plans are for after the battle, he might not even be needed then.

“He’s fine, he’s safe,” Gabriel says. “He’s currently driving Dean nuts.”

“He likes to be in charge,” Brendon says, he could mean either one of them. Michael was always a bossy older brother and Ryan had loved him beyond measure. Loved all his brothers.

Even the one currently torturing him.

“Well he is, who he is.”

  


**********************************************************

  
The battle starts and finishes with more of a whimper then a bang.

Dean’s been running scenarios for month and pretty much all of them had been hell on earth and a firm conviction that they weren’t all going to make it to the end.

Instead Lucifer attacks and it probably _would_ have been hell on earth, probably would have been the battle to end all battles.

But then Lucifer had seen the boy and fell to his knees.

Gabriel and Phanuel go to stop the boy from moving forward, Raguel and Camael try to step between them to form a protective barrier. The boy merely glances at them and they step back, heads bowing deferentially.

He stops in front of Lucifer, the boy is twelve, but he’s small for his age and even on his knees Lucifer is almost as tall as him.

The boy leans forward, places his hands on either side of Lucifer’s head and kisses his forehead.

“You are forgiven, my son,” he says quietly when he draws back, there are tears in Lucifer’s eyes when he blows apart.

Dean reflexively closes his eyes against the light and when he opens them the boy is standing there, but Lucifer and the demons and those that were fighting on his side are gone, Zachariah has finally made his presence known and he stands off to the side.

He’s not making any snide comments, just watches the boy with wide eyes. Dean wonders if he hadn’t figured out who Ryan was protecting until just then; standing there watching the boy that was their Father offer forgiveness to one of their fallen brothers.

The boy turns and his eyes are still bright, flashing with the power of his grace.

“Where’s Ryan?” Spencer asks. Dean turns and he can see the four of them huddled together, Jon and Spencer on either side of Brendon and Pete.

The boy turns again, eyes scanning for something, probably for some sign of Ryan. When he turns back he looks at Gabriel and Camael.

“We’ll find him,” Gabriel says.

The boy nods and they’re gone. Zachariah steps forward then, his head bowed.

“Father,” he starts.

“Zachariah,” the boy says, his lips are a thin line and he doesn’t look pleased. “You have some explaining to do.”

  


**********************************************************

  
He’s warm on either side and there’s a hand on his stomach. He’s not in any pain so for a momentary second he thinks, _I’m dreaming again_.

He shifts then and pain shoots up along one side of his body, up his arm, his shoulder, right to his head, his chest aches like someone had stomped hard on it and he thinks he might have a cracked or broken rib. Breathing is actually very painful.

He would curl in on himself but he thinks that might actually hurt more then just laying there as he is.

He tries to concentrate on not moving, on not thinking about the pain.

“Ryan?” he hears and he opens his eyes. Because that was Brendon’s voice and when he focuses he can see that Brendon is lying along his left side, propped up on one elbow. He’s smiling down at him, the smile is scared but hopeful; a glance to his other side is Pete, forehead pressed against Ryan’s shoulder, it’s his hand that is on Ryan’s stomach.

He’s asleep.

“Gabriel did this thing,” Brendon says, he waves his hand and it says how fluent he is in Brendon speak that he knows what Brendon is talking about. “Pete hadn’t really slept since they brought you back and he was, I thought he was going to go crazy before you woke up, so Gabriel touched his forehead and…”

“How long?” Ryan asks.

“Almost a week, you were in really bad shape when Gabriel and Camael brought you back, they’ve all been working on healing you but some of what Lucifer and his goons did to you they can’t heal.”

“My grace,” Ryan murmurs. He remembers Lucifer pulling at it, remembers him trying to suck it out to use as his own, to heal the body that he was burning through. Ryan hadn’t let him take it, but he couldn’t keep him from touching it, from damaging it.

“That’s what they said,” Brendon says.

“It’s over then?” Ryan asks, he turns his head and Brendon lays his down, their foreheads are touching and Ryan closes his eyes. It feels comfortable and familiar and is the closest thing to home that Ryan can think of.

Except for maybe Spencer and Jon.

“It’s over,” Brendon whispers, “all the bad guys are gone and the doorways are apparently sealed and most of the angels have returned to heaven.”

  


**********************************************************

  
The boy pops in and out as they wait for Ryan to heal.

“It’ll take a while,” the boy says. “And I think that he’ll choose to remain here for the time being regardless.”

Dean knows that’s because of Brendon and Pete and Jon and Spencer.

“What did you do to Zachariah?” he asks. He doesn’t care, not really, except for the part of him that thinks that he should be banished to the far reaches of Hell for his part in freeing Lucifer.

The boy might have offered Lucifer forgiveness; Dean is unable to do the same. All he can remember is fighting and Lucifer attempting to make them choose sides against Father.

The boy smirks, “Raphael introduced me to this wonderful thing called time-out, it was on some talk show or something that we were watching and he explained how it worked.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “You put Zachariah in a time-out.”

“Well apparently I’m not allowed to spank my disobedient children any longer,” the boy quirks an eyebrow at him.

“I’m pretty sure that no one is going to call child protective services on you,” Dean grins. “Your kids misbehave they don’t throw a tantrum in Wal-Mart, they end up trying to destroy the world.”

“Raphael will need to return home for a short while, his grace was severely damaged and I’ve allowed him to remain here because being with his companions brings him peace but the longer that he waits the longer he will need to remain in order for his grace to fully heal.”

Dean sighs.

“Are you telling them or am I?” he asks. He blinks and the boy has already gone. “I guess I am.”

  


**********************************************************

  
Ryan leaves on a Thursday, for some reason he’s bundled in a coat and scarf, Dean’s not sure why, Ryan’s not going to need them where he’s going.

He looks pale and shaky and he’s leaning against Brendon; Pete has a grip on his hand that he’ll need to release eventually so Ryan can hug Spencer and Jon.

“I’m coming back,” Ryan says, he sounds amused if nothing else. Dean is thankful someone is amused.

Brendon looks like he’s going to burst into tears at a change in the wind and Pete looks like he thinks Ryan is never going to return. Spencer has his steady face on which means that he’s scared of the same thing. Jon is the only one who looks remotely laid back about the whole thing.

“Well he’s got to fix Alex eventually,” he says when Dean looks at him.

“I could actually do that,” Dean says, there’s all this knowledge in his head that comes from being an Angel apparently; he might as well put it to some use.

Jon stands next to him, arms crossed over his chest and they watch Spencer attempt to hug Ryan without making Brendon or Pete let go.

“I’m not going off to war or anything, I’m coming back,” Ryan says again, he still wraps the one arm that Pete doesn’t have a grip on around Spencer.

  


**********************************************************

  
They leave for a hunt about a week after Ryan leaves for Heaven’s version of a spa.

Dean hopes that he’s relaxing and getting healthy and happy again, he hopes that Ryan returns and is prepared for the four to never let him out of his sight again. Zack has started talking about handcuffs and tracking monitors again.

Dean doesn’t remind him that none of the stuff is going to do anything unless Ryan wants it to.

Doesn’t remind any of them that Ryan and Jon aren’t in their band anymore, they’ll all remember soon enough.

Sam has jogged off to the bathroom; he’s been a whiny bitch in the car so Dean doesn’t mind the space for a while. Hopefully good mood Sam will come back and leave pissy Sam in a bathroom stall wallowing in whatever put him _in_ his mood in the first place.

“What are you hunting?” Ryan asks. Dean doesn’t jump, he doesn’t startle, the only movement he makes is to knock over the leaning tower of forks that he was constructing while he waited for the waitress to notice that someone was sitting at the table and come take his order.

“Shapeshifters,” Dean says, he arches an eyebrow. “Apparently they can turn into birds, or something.”

Ryan nods.

“You all one hundred percent again?” Dean asks. He straightens the forks, tongs facing Ryan, evenly spaced out in front of him.

“I feel fine,” Ryan says. “I wanted…”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily dude, you’re my favorite,” Dean smirks at him.

“Gabriel is actually your favorite, strength speaks to strength,” Ryan looks away. “I was more the ‘oh crap we need someone to clean up the mess when we’re done breaking our toys’ favorite.”

Dean looks at him. “No, pretty sure you’re my favorite right now, excepting Sammy, of course, Gabriel killed me way too many times to be my favorite at the moment.”

“You’re not still harping on about that, are you? I mean it’s over, we’ve all moved on… brother,” Gabriel lays an arm over the back of the booth.

“Eventually someone is going to notice that there are three people sitting in this booth when before there was only one.”

“People see what they want to see, they don’t want to see people appear out of thin air so their minds make a logical assumption that someone came back from the restroom while they weren’t looking,” Ryan says.

“Are you kidding?” Sam asks, he stops at the end of the table and stares at Ryan and Gabriel.

“Sammy, long time no see,” Gabriel says. “Have a seat; I think our waitress is coming to take our order.”

Sam manages to restrain himself from saying anything until their waitress leaves; at least she didn’t appear to recognize Ryan which means that they might actually end up with the right orders this time.

“You had to bring him with you?” Dean asks, he looks at Gabriel when he clears his throat.

“The role of Ryan Ross’ bodyguard will now be played by the Archangel Gabriel for the foreseeable future.”

Ryan smiles softly, almost to himself.

“Wow, Zack isn’t going to be pissed off about that at all,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“Zack is Brendon and Spencer’s bodyguard, not mine, or even Jon’s. It’s time he concentrated on them and not us,” Ryan says.

“You know that your guys call every day, right? And that _includes_ Zack, wanting to know if we’ve heard anything, if we’ve seen you, if Dean can tap into Heaven’s phone line and find out if you’re planning on returning before they turn fifty.”

“I want to introduce my brothers to them,” Ryan says, “we’ll help you on your hunt and then you’ll take us home.”

“I will, will I,” Dean raises an eyebrow at him and Ryan smiles sweetly in response.

Dean feels someone kicking at his feet and from Gabriel’s grin he determines that it’s most likely him.

“Father decided it was time that we officially vetted the prospective in-laws,” Gabriel says. “I had to promise no smiting or cursing or harming, but I’ve got a whole other arsenal of things I can choose from.”

“He’s already promised that he won’t use any of his Trickster tricks,” Ryan says, he glances at Gabriel with suspicious eyes. “I’m sure that he has something else up his sleeves so I want you there as a precaution.”

“What, as a shield?” Dean asks.

“More as two,” Ryan glances at Sam. “Three against one.”

“Well it won’t be any fun if you’re all just going to gang up on me,” Gabriel mock pouts.

“We can put the hunt off, take you now,” Sam offers.

“What are we hunting?” Gabriel asks.

“Avian shapeshifters,” Ryan says.

“Really? I haven’t seen one of those since dragons became extinct. They’re normally peaceful unless their nest is being disturbed,” Gabriel muses. “We can do the hunt first, then go terrorize Ryan’s boyfriends.”

Dean scowls; across the table Ryan is doing the same.

“You’re not going to terrorize Brendon and Pete,” Ryan says sternly.

“Of course not,” Gabriel agrees. “I’m just going to make sure that they know if they don’t treat you right that there’s a special place all reserved for them.”

  


**********************************************************

  
Brendon is the first one out of the house, Pete not that far behind. Spencer and Jon are standing on the front steps and they’re all grinning. Brendon is hugging Ryan like he might not ever let go again, Pete has his arms wrapped around both of them.

Dean thinks that Brendon might be crying, either that or laughing hysterically.

“It just warms the heart, doesn’t it?” Gabriel asks. He’s standing next to Dean, Sam has his arms crossed in front of him on the hood, he’s smiling.

“You’re not really going to terrorize them, are you?” Dean thinks he might have to stop him if he says yes. They’ve all been through enough.

“I think if anyone is going to screw things up that it’ll probably be Raphael,” Gabriel says. “We’re never good at this part for some reason,” Dean looks at him. “Finding a good thing and holding onto it, I think we’re almost always waiting for it to go away or be taken away from us.”

“I think they’ll do okay,” Dean says. He kind of has faith that the worst is behind them. Now it’s just putting the pieces back together.

  


**********************************************************

Notes:

The majority of my knowledge on Archangels and their roles came from Google search and more specifically this website: <http://beachangeljbsloveandlig.homestead.com/Archangels.html>

Uriel is named as an Archangel on this particular website, anyone who is familiar with _Supernatural_ canon thus far knows that Uriel was killed by Castiel and since I wanted seven complete Archangels I utilized an alternative name of Phanuel.

  



End file.
